


Tearing Apart

by keep_waking_up



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Claustrophobia, Hallucinations, Hurt!Sam, M/M, Slight Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-17
Updated: 2013-04-17
Packaged: 2017-12-08 19:15:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/765025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keep_waking_up/pseuds/keep_waking_up
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was supposed to be a simple hunt.  There wasn't supposed to be a djinn.  And a poltergeist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tearing Apart

**Author's Note:**

> For spnkink_meme: Sam and Dean are forcefully separated during a hunt. Like shut in different rooms of a haunted building, or opposite sides of a cave-in. Sam gets knocked pretty hard on the head or some supernatural baddie starts playing mind tricks on him. Suddenly the room is closing in and he's reliving all his worst nightmares. Meanwhile Dean is going crazy trying to get to Sam and save him. Even with the tension between them, that's still his baby brother screaming himself hoarse and crying out for Dean. Would like to see a slow escalation to Sam's panic. Like he starts off trying to stay calm and figure a way out to Dean, but slowly succumbs to his fears and breaks down. Gimme Dean rescuing Sam, a hysterical Sam, Dean comforting his baby brother and calming him down. Lots of hugging and cuddling and maybe even Dean carrying Sam because I like seeing Sam being manhandled ;)

“Dean!”

He’s pounding on the door, pounding on the walls, scraping his nails across the uneven surface. He can’t breath, can’t breath. No hunt has ever prepared him for this and he can’t. Fucking. Breath.

“Dean! Dean! God, Dean, you gotta help me! Dean, help, god, help me, please! I’m so sorry, I’m so god damn sorry, Dean, please! Please, c’mon, please, god!”

Dean can’t hate him this much, can’t be leaving him here to die like this. He can’t. He’ll come. He has to come.

 

*

 

It was supposed to be a simple hunt. They were just getting back on their feet, the trust rebuilt between them still fragile at best. Just an old building and a couple of deaths connected to it. They’d been pretty sure it was just a vengeful spirit or a poltergeist, and they’d gone in to scope the place out, armed up with salt packed shotguns and only a couple of knives that they always carried tucked into their clothes.

There wasn’t supposed to be a djinn. And a poltergeist.

The thing had probably been tailing them. Their kind had always had some sort of hard-on for attacking him and Sam. They’ve had a couple of run-ins over the years, and they’ve never ended well. Although, this is arguably the worst time yet.

They’re battling off the poltergeist, and shit is it a strong one, when the djinn shows up, looking half-starved and reaching for Sam just as the spirit’s sweeping back down on them for an encore.

Apparently, it didn’t know about the poltergeist. All it manages is a brief brush to Sam’s arm, before the spirit is throwing it away, locking it in one of the empty rooms. Dean only has time to look over and see the poison beginning to spread through Sam’s body before he’s shoved back and into his own locked prison.

“Sam!”

 

*

 

He’s practical at first. He’s locked in what looks like it used to be a kid’s nursery, and isn’t that ironic, and the djinn poison is going to start affecting him soon. It’s not much, he figures, enough to knock him out of commission for an hour or so though, and that is not good when they’re in the middle of a hunt. He needs to get Dean and get the hell out of here before it starts to effect him badly.

The door’s locked from the outside, no surprise. He backs up and charges at it, expecting it to break down. He smacks solidly against it with a grunt, but it holds strong. It’s an old door, hasn’t been reinforced. The poltergeist is obviously keeping it closed; he’s not going to be able to get out that way. He barely thinks about it before whirling to run at the window. It doesn’t shatter, doesn’t even shudder, and fuck, how strong is this poltergeist anyways?

Panic is setting in. He can’t tell if it’s the poison starting to work or the situation in general. He paces the room, thumping on the floorboards and walls, trying to find anything with give. There’s nothing. His room is a cell with no escape route. 

He stares hard at the wall, maybe too hard, because all of a sudden they start moving. He shakes his head, trying to clear it, but when he looks again, they’re still moving, inching ever so slowly forward, towards him.

“It’s just the poison,” he mutters to himself, trying not to fall into it, even as his entire body screams that the walls are closing in on him and he’s going to die in a small, tight, enclosed space, just like a coffin, fuck! His breathing has already turned to panting when he turns around to see- oh, fuck, oh my god, no-

Lucifer grins, wet and bloody. “Hi Sam.”

“Dean!”

*

His brother’s screaming. Oh fuck, his brother won’t. Stop. Screaming.

“Dean, help! Dean, please, you gotta help me, he’s gonna tear me apart, he’s gonna make me- Dean!”

He’s tried the door, the wall, the windows, fuck, he’s almost out of ideas. He’s pounded his fists bloody, screamed his throat raw, for all the good that’s done. Sam can’t seem to hear him at all, just keeps yelling for him, hoarse and desperate. Like he really thinks Dean will just leave him there. It’s just about one of the worst sounds Dean’s ever heard in his life.

It’s no good hollering at the poltergeist, but he tries anyway. He can’t help it. “You sick fuck! That’s my baby brother, you let me the hell out of here or I’ll fuck kill you! I will hurt you so bad, you’ll fucking wish you’d never existed!” His threats don’t make sense, aren’t even possible, but that doesn’t stop him.

“DEAN!” 

That earth-shattering screech is the last straw. He stomps hard on the floorboard, getting ready to get into serious action, and his foot plunges through.

Immediately, he yanks it back up and begins tearing at the damaged floor boards. If he has to fucking dismantle the whole fucking house to get to his brother, he’ll do it. The poltergeist better believe he’ll fucking do it.

His eyes go wide as he stares at the skeleton he’s partially revealed. The door and window begin to rattle in fury. It can’t be that easy, really? It seems to be, though, ‘cause the poltergeist is definitely getting riled up about something. He’s got about half a minute before it’s seriously trying to kill him, instead of just toying with him like it has been.

He tears off a couple of nails getting the rest of the crucial floorboards up. He doesn’t even notice until after he’s shook what salt he has left over his body and blood gets all over the lighter.

The poltergeist makes an inhuman noise as it’s burned away in oblivion. He rushes for the door. 

Sam. He’s got to get to Sam.

He barrels through the door of the room he’d seen Sam get dragged into and finds his brother. He’s a shuddering sobbing mess, collapsed on the ground screaming and shaking, voice raw from the powerful hallucinations. Dean curses the djinn. It must have given him just enough venom to make the visions seem real but not enough to knock his brother out. Being unconscious would surely be a mercy compared to this.

Sam doesn’t seem to know he’s there. He doesn’t notice as Dean kneels in front of him, carefully hugging Sam’s middle so he can haul him up over his shoulder. It’s slow-going; Sam is huge and Dean is just not used to having to deal with that kind of weight and size. But he gets him out. He gets him into the backseat of the car and tries not to listening to Sam’s sobbing as he guns the Impala down the road towards the nearest motel he can find.

*

Things start to become slightly more clear awhile later. He’s in Dean’s arms, that much he can tell, and they’re not in the house anymore. The walls are still closing in though and he makes a low distressed sound as he clings to his brother. “Dean, Dean, we gotta get out of here man, you gotta get us out. It’s gonna crush us, I can’t breath, Dean, please.”

“Shh, shh...” His brother is stroking his face as if he can’t see the danger, running his hands through Sam’s hair like he used to when Sam was still young enough that that kind of affection was okay. “It’s okay, it’s all okay Sammy. It’s just the djinn poison, you remember that? You’re hallucinating, it’s all okay. Nothing bad is gonna happen to you. Not gonna let anything happen.”

“It’s not real?” He sniffles, and he does kinda remember something about a djinn, but he also remember Lucifer and he’s not really sure what’s real anymore. Everything’s out to get him, and all he has is Dean and- “Are you real?” he asks, suddenly uncertain. “You gotta be real, Dean, I can’t do this without you-”

“Yeah, I’m real Sam, I’m real.” Dean brings their foreheads together, so Sam can taste his breath as he exhales. “You’re not gonna have to do anything without me. I’ll always be right here. Okay?”

“Okay,” he agrees, because he wants to believe. He hugs Dean closer, feeling his leather jacket clenched in his palms. The room’s so small. He shudders and tugs at Dean. “Dean, you gotta make it go away. I can’t- I just can’t-”

Dean kisses him.

It’s soft and firm and his eyes slide closed as he moans. This is his brother and he can taste him, and there’s nothing else. Dean won’t let there be anything else. This is his big brother, who will always take care of him.

“Dean,” he breathes, and Dean smiles softly against his lips.


End file.
